


Neighbors Know My Name

by Bayyvon



Category: Jem and the Holograms
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex, ft a little bit of aftercare bc Pizazz is a baby and Techrat is a softie, they're actually real soft on one another aright y'all can fight me on this, this is seth's fault, vague bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bayyvon/pseuds/Bayyvon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> They might think my name is <b> "oh shh-"</b> I make her cuss</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neighbors Know My Name

Techrat knows when he hears a loud crash, followed by the flutter of papers, and a cackle, that Pizzazz is in his office, fiddling with one of his projects. He toes off his shoes, and treks down the hall, coming quietly upon the wide open door, where the Misfit is scribbling across a set of blueprints, and a now unrecognizable piece of equipment lay scattered across the floor. 

"You little fuckin' shit," Tech winds slender fingers through wild hair, tugging sharply enough that her head rolls back, and she blinks up at him, almost startled. Almost. "Whthe hell've I told'ju about touchin' my shit, Zazz? Huh?" 

"Whataya gonna do about it?" Pizzazz smirks, just a little. But it's enough. Techrat twists his wrist to the right and pulls harder, pressing her back against his chest as he wedges her between himself and the desk she had purposefully demolished to set him off. 

Pizzazz had wiggled her arms behind her back, and was attempting to work his fingers out of her hair, so he gripped her that much tighter, making her breathe out little whimpers she would never admit to in the daylight. The way she kept trying to pull at his fingers, raising red lines across the backs of his hands, gave him an idea. He knew she was handsy, especially during sex. She loved to drag those goddamn nails everywhere; she was definitely a toucher. So what he dug around in the nearby drawer for was going to drive her up the wall. 

Rat releases teased green hair, catching both her wrists with his now free hand, slipping a clear zip tie around them. "That." He answers simply, giving one good hard tug to the zip tie, enough to dig into the tender skin there. 

The Misfit whines, actually _whines_ , "Techraat! I was only kidding, it was an accident, c'mon-" 

Techrat presses himself firmer against her backside, draping her body with his own. He grazes light teeth across her neck and shoulder, finding the junction between the two and biting. "What is it I've told you, P? 'bout bein' in here, messin' with my desks?" When he gets no response other than a weak moan, he bites again, no pretense of a lovely hickey, just a pure bruise. "Answer me." 

Pizzazz mumbles something unintelligible, and she feels Techrat's teeth scrape higher along the column of her neck, and she forces out "Not to! 'm not supposed to be in h-here," 

"Then why are you?" Tech grins against her flushed skin, rolling his hips against her ass, watching her squirm beneath him. He digs his fingers between the flesh of her hipbones, making her whimper and begin to wiggle. "You wanted my cock this damn bad, all ya had to do was ask, Zazz." 

Pizzazz groans, arching back into his touch. "F-faaah-fuck you!" 

"There it is." The dark haired man slips two fingers beneath the band of her panties, teasing her clit with a vengeance. 

"Ahh, Techraaat, d-damn you," 

"Can you come like this? Just me rollin' my thumb around your clit?" 

"Fuck me," She pants, and Rat smirks, sinking two fingers inside of her. He crooks them downwards, rolling his wrist enough to make her claw at her own palms and beg. "Techraaaaat," He withdraws, and moves back to her clit. 

Removing both hands from her, he quickly undoes the button on his jeans, pulling his aching cock out, shoving blue lace out of his way. Techrat teases her, pushing inside and freezing, knowing damn good and well she would huff and pout, until he finally began to pump his hips at a punishing pace. 

"Techraaaat!" She cries out, and he begins to tug at her hair once more. "Fuck! Te-e-ch-r-aaat," 

"Gonna come?" He taunts, a smirk pressing against the edges of his lips. 

"C-close," She whines, trying to gain friction between her aching clit and the lip of the desk. "Fuck," His name slides from between her lips on the heels of soft moans, over and over, and fuckin' christ does she look good when she says it. 

"Damn," He reaches around, toying with her clit until he finds a rhythm that makes her legs begin to buckle. He's getting there himself, and finds himself thoughroughly self-satisfied when Pizzazz shouts _Theo_ as she climaxes around him. His hips stutter once- twice- before he finally hits his peak on a litany of _Phyllis, Zazz, fuck!_

It takes a few minutes of heavy breathing and self-composition before either one of them has the energy to move, and, as usual, Pizzazz is first, whining and flapping her bound hands as much her mobility offered. 

"Hang on," Techrat murmurs, tucking himself away and digging around in his desk drawer for a pair of scissors. "Hold still." 

He snips away the zip tie, and Pizzazz groans "Thank you," 

"C'mere." He scoops her up, bridal style and carries her towards his room. "You called me Theo, y'know." 

"Shuddup." 

**  
Techrat glances out the window as he sheds himself of last night's t-shirt, and sees leaves skittering across the sidewalk. He decides on an old hoodie, and follows Pizzazz as she shuffles groggily out the door. 

"Mornin', Techrat." One of his neighbor women chuckles at him. 

"Hi, Mrs. Litman." He grumbles, pulling his hood over his head to hide his flaming cheeks. 

"Good mornin' to you too, Phyllis." She calls. 

"Thanks, Mrs. L," Pizzazz groans, shielding her face with her hands.


End file.
